


Everything Under The Stars

by reveriemystique



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reveriemystique/pseuds/reveriemystique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock spend the night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Under The Stars

I kissed him so hard I could swear we were about to go through the mattress, my sweaty lips pressed into his so roughly they'd be bruised tomorrow. The maroon sheets stuck to our skin while we never ceased to move, and as I licked a stripe up his neck and gazed at his eyes sewn shut in pleasure, everything under the stars was Sherlock. And there may as well be no roof at all, with the moon looking down fondly on our union knowing it was meant to happen, here, tangled in the sheets, his limbs hugging me close around my waist so gracefully, because everything he does is laced with elegance. I could feel the heat leap off our twisted bodies for inches into the air, surrounding us and clouding our movements and his cries when I put my teeth on his neck and bruised his skin so purple they'd match the shirt I know he'll wear the next day to flaunt it. He sung out my name in a mangled moan, and I could feel his body as it ventured closer to the moment, quivering softly beneath me as we slid together, over, and over. I sung his name back to him in more of a strangled whisper, urging him closer because I knew it'd be any second. Suddenly he was writhing beneath me, more so than ever, his vocal chords releasing something special, not a shout, not a whisper, not even words; but I kept it like a secret in my memory as I followed him into a white hot blindness moments later, slowing my rhythm only to accommodate the feeling encompassing us like a tidal wave crashing to the bed, searing through me, and oh, I didn't even have to wonder if it was as good for Sherlock. As the sparkles of light and colour began to die in my eyes, I heard him and felt him as he caught his breath under me, the sweat on our bodies beginning to cool. Finally, our breathing calming as well, we looked at each other, and for a brief moment, I was fearful. But his eyes shined, and his lips quirked up in a smile, and in that moment, I could've kissed him, but would have felt that far too cliche. So instead, I extricated myself carefully from the entanglement of our bodies, and I lied next to him, never looking anywhere but Sherlock; Sherlock's eyes, Sherlock's mouth, Sherlock's body. But he could not return my glances as his eyelids dropped down, closing indefinitely. I quickly scurried up to shut off the light, leaving the room dark, and returned to him slowly like a ghost in the blackness. I resigned to look at the ceiling, just for a moment, and found myself surprised that I could see a ceiling there at all; because I could swear, that just for that night, the stars smiled down at us and the moonlight kissed his skin, far more gracefully then my lips, at that. Then my eyesight began to dim and I felt my consciousness ebb slowly away. I utilised my last bit of self-awareness to entwine my fingers with Sherlock's, and hoped to be reunited with him in our dreams.


End file.
